


Snowblind

by boogiebuns



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Blind TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Blindinnit AU because yeah, Blindness, Blood, Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), First fic pog, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Harpy Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Manipulation, Minor Injuries, Piglin Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Slow To Update, Swearing, Technoblade Hears Voices (Video Blogging RPF), Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), c!Dream is an asshole as usual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:55:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28866612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boogiebuns/pseuds/boogiebuns
Summary: Dream is sick and tired of Tommy's antics. The next time he sees him, it's either Tommy follows the rules, or things are going to get ugly fast.Or, A BlindInnit AU inspired by @impcraig.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Wilbur Soot & Techoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, dont irl ship people thats!! gross!!! <3
Comments: 49
Kudos: 619





	1. Red On White

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!! I got no idea how this website works!! This is my first fic so uh!! here we go!!

Tommy liked the tundra. He could walk about the frozen landscape for hours, hearing the soft crunching of snow beneath his shoes, only returning to the cabin when Technoblade was able to pull him inside. He didn’t mind the frigid air that would whip past his head in the early mornings. The sensation of the wind pushing him about, the only sound within miles and miles of mountains and snow, it made him feel alive. A stark contrast to the deafening silence in exile that made him feel anything _but_ alive.

Today, however, Tommy couldn’t simply sit in the snow until his ass froze off. He had work to do. He had another cabin to build. Actually, Techno was going to use it as a doghouse, he’d told Tommy himself, but he was determined to finish what he and Ghostbur had started. Unfortunately, that required him to chop wood — and that took hours.

To fill the gaps between the dull, monotonous thwack of his axe hitting the tree — specifically, the axe that Technoblade had entrusted to him, dubbed as the “Axe Of Peace” — he made up scenarios of Techno breaking Phil out of L’manburg. When Techno had told him that’s what he’d be doing today, Tommy had been excited. That was, until Techno said that Tommy wouldn’t be joining him. He’d desperately wanted to go back, even begging to tag along, but all Techno had replied with was a simple, “I can’t risk it.”

So instead, here he was, chopping wood in the freezing cold and fantasizing about sneaking into a country he was exiled from. First, he thought it would be easy. Drink an invisibility potion, break in, break out. Piece of cake! Then, after realizing Phil’s house was smack dab in the middle of L’manburg, he considered the possibility of complications. What would happen if someone was nearby? How long would it take if Phil was chained? He hoped Phil wouldn’t be chained. That would be a hassle, especially considering how large Phil’s wings were. Eventually, he settled on just acting the whole thing out, using the trees as obstacles.

Tommy began weaving in and out between the tall spruce, occasionally hitting one and groaning when he stripped the log. Birds flew from their nests as the teen ran by, screaming and shouting in such a way that shook the branches and dropped snow. As he reached the tree line, Tommy flung the axe out in front of him and dawned a confident expression.

“Hello Philza! I’m sure you’ve missed me. I’ve come to break you the fuck out of here!” He yelled to the open air, letting out another laugh. “Oh, and don’t worry, I’ll be sure to protect you. Just like I do to that very cool and badass guy, Tommy!”

“Are you sure about that?”

Eyes widening, Tommy spun back around towards the trees. His smiled dropped to the floor. There, standing about 10 paces away and leaning on a tree, was a very familiar figure in green. Dream pushed himself off of the tree and crossed his arms.

“I don’t see him here, actually. I guess he’s left you.” he shrugged. Tommy found himself grasping for words at a throat that wasn’t working. He gaped, staring at Dream like a deer in headlights. Dream, taking Tommy’s silence as a welcome to move forward, stepped past the tree line and closer towards the frozen teen. At his movement, Tommy raised the axe in his direction.

“Woah, woah, woah. Watch where you point that thing. You wouldn’t want to hurt me would you?” Tommy couldn’t respond. His hands trembled on the haft of the axe, flinching when Dream began to close the gap between them.

Dream, now practically face to face with the shaking blond, slowly reached up and pushed the axe out of view. He huffed out a long sigh and smiled from beneath the mask. “Good to see you again, Tommy. I’ve been looking for you, you know.”

Tommy squeaked. Of all the times in the world, of course Dream had to be here now. And, as per usual, he was right. Technoblade was nowhere to be seen. Tommy wished he’d begged harder to come along.

Dream tilted his head. “I really wish Techno would have just, I don’t know, _told me_ you were here. That would have made things so much easier.” He set a heavy hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. I’ve found you, and we can go back to Logstedshire. Right, Tommy?”

Tommy found himself nodding. “We should probably get going before it’s dark then.”

Dream slowly tightened his grip on Tommy’s shoulder, edging him in the direction of the trees. Hesitantly, he followed Dream back towards the trees and away from the cabin. The same cabin that was welcoming, more welcoming than Logstedshire had ever been. More welcoming than Dream had ever been.

“Tommy, is something wrong?” He hadn’t even realized he’d stopped walking. Dream now had a hand on his back, pushing more than edging him farther into the spruce forest.

“I can’t.” Tommy mustered. “Dream, I’m sorry, I can’t.”

The only thing that followed after that was silence. Tommy suddenly wished his throat had continued to not work. He felt Dream’s eyes bore into him. The small beady dots staring straight at his own, despite fixing his gaze at the ground.

After a long moment, Dream spoke. “I see.” Tommy watched out of the corner of his eyes as Dream reached into his pocket for something. This was it. Whatever he was grabbing would kill him, whether it be sword, or axe, or crossbow, he was going to die. He hoped it would be the sword. That would hurt the least out of the other options. Instead, much to Tommy’s surprise, Dream grabbed TNT. “Well, I tried.” He said grimly.

A stick of dynamite, to be exact, inches away from blowing both of them to kingdom come, was now at the top of his list of fears. Tommy squirmed and pulled away from Dream’s grasp, pushing harder when Dream didn’t let him go. In one strong pull Tommy was in front of him again, scratching at his forearms. Dream dug a shallow hole at their feet, tossed the shovel aside, and held the dynamite mere centimeters away from Tommy’s face.

“Tommy, drop all of your items.” Tommy froze. He remembered when Dream had said that last. He remembered when Dream had blown up all of Logstedshire and Tnret and left without looking back. Here, out in the tundra, Techno’s cabin was the only thing Dream could blow up — aside from his armor. The armor and the helmet that Techno had _made for him_. He couldn’t let that happen.

“No, no, no, wait! I’ll go, I’m sorry,” Dream cut him off, shoving the stick between his eyes.

“No. You ran away from me, Tommy. You ran away from me and hid in Technoblade’s cabin! No more excuses. Drop everything.” Dream hissed. Tommy struggled under his hold, trying to slink away from the TNT. The bomb was pressed to his face now, his vision blurring when he looked at it. His nose burnt at the flame of the fuse as it came closer to the base. When Tommy said earlier that whatever Dream got out was going to kill him, he really hadn’t expected it to be TNT.

“Wait, Dream please!” He was flailing now. Dream’s hold had been so tight on him that he could barely breathe, let alone drop his things. The fuse grew closer.

“Dream!” Tommy borderline screamed, “Dream, the TNT!”

At that, Dream loosened his hold. If Dream didn’t know the fuse was lit, he surely did now. He dropped both the stick and Tommy like a rag doll and fell backwards.

Dream watched as white engulfed the world, a flash he was used to seeing, just not so close. His ears rang, pain dancing around his head like firecrackers. At that moment, Dream was suddenly much more thankful for the mask that covered his face. Thankful for his arms, now burned and bloody, that had shielded him from the blow. Dream looked up, squinting through the smoke and ash that fell over the area.

Tommy hadn’t been as lucky.


	2. Ash and Dust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For once, Techno and Phil would like to relax. Yet again, a horrible problem arises. Techno and Phil will not be resting today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AYUP tw: Blood/gore (not too bad, but please stay safe!)
> 
> Sorry this update took SO long, school and whatnot have been a pain. I'm trying my best to get it updated!! I really do not want to leave it hanging.... finding out a fic was left unfinished has broken me too many times, man

Technoblade and Philza had always had an unbreakable bond. Ever since they had first met, in the freezing arctic in which they built an empire on, he had liked the guy. Something pulled at the back of his mind, begging for this random — seemingly human at the time — man that had shown up on his territory to stay. So instead of pushing the overworlder away, he gave into the whispers that seeped into the crevasses of his mind and decided not to kill him on sight. Which was, hands down, the best choice Techno had ever made.

Phil was kind. He took a liking to Techno fast, offering to help him in his anarchist endeavors, always tagging along and providing a nice story or two on the way to their next destination. Phil understood his boundaries and never forced Techno to engage in conversation. Phil was content with telling stories, and Techno was content with listening. They eventually developed a strong mutual trust together, a bond unbreakable even by death herself, that made the phrase ‘power couple’ an understatement. A partnership — because it definitely wasn’t parental to Techno, not at all — that would last lifetimes.

So here they were, in the same freezing cold in which they met in, walking and talking as they moved along their trek back home.

“My back is going to be aching for weeks, Techno, weeks!” Phil started, throwing his arms up in emphasis. “God, do you know how cramped it is in those tiny fucking houses? I could barely even stretch myself, let alone my wings.”

That was the other thing. Aside from seeing them enter a bastion and immediately knocking them on their back, Phil was the first human Techno had interacted with. And Phil wasn’t even a human. Techno had gone on for years, seeing the stunning display of colors that stretched from his back, and thought that this was normal. So when Phil had introduced Techno to Wilbur and Techno, instinctively, had asked where his wings were, you can imagine the shock and embarrassment that followed. All humans, in fact, did not have wings. Phil was a harpy.

“You won’t be able to fly anyways. There’s going to be a blizzard.” Techno commented meekly.

“Blizzard? You didn’t tell me there was going to be a blizzard.” Techno looked off into the distance, ignoring Phil’s gaze that bore through his skull. “Well, shit! Couldn’t you have told me that any sooner, Techno?” Phil raved in fake annoyance.

“I didn’t mean to wait this long to tell you.” Behind that, Phil could tell there were a few things that went unsaid. Phil gave him a smile. He wasn’t angry.

“I know, I know, mate. I’ll just have to stretch the muscles while I can.” Phil did so immediately, and Techno turned his head back to watch the display. He’d always been awestruck at their beauty, the shimmering pinks and blues against the deep black, and wondered how Phil managed to keep them so clean. Not a feather went unplaced, even in the “tiny fucking houses” that made up L’manburg.

They fell into a comfortable silence like this, Techno watching silently while Phil ranted about whatever endeavors L’manburg had gotten into and stretched the muscles of his wings. The wind and Phil’s voice acting as a white noise effectively causing Techno to zone out. He was snapped out of his haze when he heard Phil shriek and he took to grasping onto the hilt of his sword.

“What the fuck is that?” Phil pointed towards a large building in the distance, the fog covering its features in favor of looking a threat.

“That’s Tommy’s.” Techno groaned. If it were anyone else, Techno would have had to elaborate on why a towering structure standing only 500 feet from his cabin was of Tommy’s doing. Instead, the second the words left his mouth, Phil reached up to rub his temples. Tommy’s infamous cobblestone tower strikes again.

“God, that thing is ugly.” Phil then set his eyes on the unfinished shack that Ghostbur and Tommy had built. “I take it back.”

Techno belted out a laugh that only Phil could trigger and trudged through the rest of the snow. A smile crossed his face as he saw his cabin come into view, the bee farm next to it that carried the sweet scent of honey, and began to pick up his pace. Carl neighed in delight at their arrival. He stopped to pat the steed, giving him an extra golden carrot, while Phil excitedly climbed the stairs.

After a moment, Techno heard Phil call and followed him to the doorway. He pushed the remaining door open and, thankfully, found his house untouched. However, everything inside was as cold as ice. Phil glanced over to him with a confused expression.

“He didn’t keep the fireplace lit.” Then, Phil understood. He heard Techno make a low grumble, one he knew was more piglin than human, and prodded at the fireplace with a stick. Suddenly, he stomped his boot and belted at the top of his lungs, “ _Tommy!_ You let let the fire go out! Get up here!”

When he didn’t come, Phil opted to go down to the storage room and look for him. Techno thanked him, happy that he wouldn’t have to pull the gremlin from his little hellhole himself, and turned his attention back to the fire.

The embers were completely out. Not one was still warm, lit from the inside and smoldering with that hellish red Techno knew all too well. All he could smell was horrible smoke. He’d asked Tommy to keep the fire fed in his absence as he knew Phil would be cold and the blizzard would be on its way. Obviously, he hadn’t done that. If Techno knew any better, he would have thought that Tommy hadn’t even _started_ a new fire. He knit his brows.

“Hey, Techno, I don’t think he’s here. The attic and the storage room are empty. I even checked that little hidey-hole under the basement.” Phil began, descending from the ladder. That was all Techno needed.

“He’s not here. He hasn’t _been_ here. This fire hasn’t been lit since yesterday.” He moved from his crouching position and fetched some pearls from his enderchest. It was a good thing Techno hadn’t taken off his cape yet.

“Oh boy.” was all Phil said in response. With that, the two were back out the door and running around the flatland perimeter like madmen.

Every building was checked, all foot space examined, Techno had even tried to sniff the kid out. When they came back empty handed, Phil, abnormally, was grinning.

“Don’t know why I didn’t just think of this first.” Techno only caught a glimpse of black before he was knocked over by a gust of wind and Phil was 20 feet over his head.

Phil let out a loud whoop of joy as he climbed the height of the skies. The cold nipped and scratched at his skin as he reached a comfortable distance and scoured the area for anything Tommy-like. He noticed the spruce forest — more in particular: its absence of trees — and lowered to scan the area more thoroughly. It wasn’t until he passed a deep area of the forest did he spot something shimmering from below. A purple that could only come from enchanting, and a green that he knew came from the shell of a turtle.

“Bingo.” Phil folded his wings around him and dove into the trees. There, a mere ten feet away, was an enchanted turtle shell helmet embedded into the snow. Next to it, in a mess of deep red and black, was Tommy. Or rather, Tommy’s body. Needless to say, the helmet was immediately forgotten.

Phil raced across the small clearing and knelt at Tommy’s side. “Tommy, can you hear me?” He said gently, as soft as he could get his voice to go. “Tommy, you’ve got to give me something here.”

The teen made no move to respond. Tommy’s hair was stained crimson and matted together, long blond locks singed and brittle to the touch. His hands lie at his sides. The fingers twitched sporadically, one particular thumb bent in a way Phil was confident it shouldn’t be. His face was horribly mangled, covered in layers of sticky hot blood that trickled down past his ears and into the snow. The rest was charred black with bubbling blisters pockmarking any available piece of untouched skin. His features — his nose, his mouth, his _eyes_ — blended together under the horrifying mess that was Phil’s youngest. If he didn’t know Tommy as well as he did, he would have been unrecognizable.

Blood. It covered the snow and trees, overpowered the scent of ash and filled the air with metal, crowded Phil’s vision and seeped into the back of his mind, clung to any bare surface it could and turned it into a sickly deep red. Red.

Red was everywhere.

He was brought back to reality at the sound of a small whine. Tommy’s lips — if you could call them that — were now slightly parted. He had managed to respond. He was _alive_. Phil honestly couldn’t tell if he was happy or devastated. The teen was on his last life. If he moved him now, he could hurt him further and be responsible for the death of yet another member of his family. More blood on the Angel of Death’s hands. He pushed past his thoughts and quieted Tommy softly. Phil refused to do any reaping today.

“Just breathe, Tommy. You’re not alone.” He cooed. Another pained whine escaped Tommy’s mouth. “Calm down. You’re safe.”

Phil ignored the red that crept up his hands and pulled out his communicator. He punched Techno’s name into the now sticky buttons and waited for him to respond. Fortunately, Techno was quick.

_Technoblade whispers to you: Where are you?_

_Technoblade whispers to you: What are your coords?_

Phil fumbled with the hovering panel’s menu. As soon as the numbers flashed at him, he was typing them in response.

_Technoblade whispers to you: Don’t move._

_You whisper to Technoblade: Bring Carl_

_Technoblade whispers to you: On my way_

Phil let the panel dissipate in front of him. Techno would be here soon, especially with the help of Carl, and the two of them could tackle this together. Phil’s hands dropped to his side in favor of cradling Tommy more carefully. Once Techno was here, they could tackle this together. That was how it had always been. This is how it would continue to be.

* * *

Techno followed Phil’s coordinates, watching the small dot on the panel get larger and larger. He thanked Carl for being as fast as he was as they bounded past the flatlands and into the forest, weaving past the low hanging spruce trees. Both of them intended to get there as fast as time allowed them.

When the dot was in the dead center of the panel, he let the map dissipate and dismounted. Lead in hand, Techno jogged towards a figure that was visible through the branches. He ducked under a particularly large and prickly set of leaves, noticing the burnt tips of the needles, and led Carl into the small clearing ahead. Phil’s back and curled wings were facing him as he entered. Techno dropped the lead, trusting the steed not to wander too far.

“Phil?” He began, and Phil’s feathers fluttered and relaxed at the sound. Techno took the movement as an invitation to come forwards and slowly closed the gap between them. Once he was close enough, he gazed past the man and set his eyes on what he was holding.

“I found him.” Phil repeated from his messages. Looking at the boy in his hands, Techno now knew why he was asked to bring his horse. He wanted to puke. He wondered how Phil _hadn’t_.

“Is he still alive?” Techno questioned, fighting back the bile that rose in his throat and kneeling with one knee by Phil’s side.

“Yeah, but he’s practically unresponsive. All I could get out of him was a squeak.”

Techno had seen almost everything. Broken bones, bloody gashes, corpses, malnourishment, you name it. He had seen Tommy is some of the worst days of his life, teetering on the edge of death and lucidity, and had thought that was the worst of the worst. So now, as he looked over the same kid he had previously just nursed back to health, he realized how wrong he’d been. Despite everything he’d seen, _this_ was now the worst thing he’d ever seen.

“Will he make it back?” Techno inquired, attempting to gauge the truth of Phil’s response through the swirl of emotions that coated his face. He watched as Phil seemed to scrunch his features in pain, then morph into a look of determination.

“Yes.” was all Phil gave him as a reply. The way that Phil had worded that, the short and choppy mannerism that fell off of his tongue, Techno knew the only person that Phil was trying to convince was himself. Still, he trusted the man’s judgement and set a heavy hand on his shoulder.

With that, Phil stood, his wings flapping gently in warning before folding behind him. Techno rose off of his knee with him, calling over his horse, and taking back the lead that dragged in the snow as Carl trotted over. In Tommy’s condition, they would need to ride double, which meant a very slow and long journey back as the blizzard began to set in. He slipped Carl another golden carrot, and hoped the horse wouldn’t be to upset about the discomfort.

Getting Phil and Tommy mounted was the next struggle. Eventually, they settled with Phil getting on first, and Techno slipping Tommy back into his hands when Phil was ready. The overall process went relatively smoothly, Tommy jostling very minimally as they worked, and the group was moving by the time that pink painted the sky.

As they reached the end of the small clearing, which Techno now understood as a TNT clearing, Techno could have sworn he saw a set of footsteps being consumed by the now gently falling snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayo i suck at formatting does this look okay??
> 
> also question to other fic writers: how on EARTH do y'all look up wounds n stuff??? I am... so sensitive... how.... I bow to y'all that know how to write wounds/someone taking care of wounds... y'all are so poggers


	3. Hurricane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the eye of the hurricane there is quiet, for just a moment; The yellow sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m trying to make these chapters longer I swear,,, I'm so sorry I could only get to about 1k this go around for how much time I took, but I’m hoping to ramp it up next chapter!!

Technoblade really needed to expand. Although he had three rooms, completely open concept, Techno was constantly having to find workarounds for his living space. He used ladders in replacement of stairs, stacked double chests on their side to optimize storage space, made shelves for his vast amount of brewing stands, dug deeper underneath the foundation of the home to make room for his villagers, and yet none seemed to be enough. He supposed that’s what he got for deciding to make a cabin of all things. 

Techno used both of his arms to swipe across the nearest counter, taking stray papers, brewing stands, and a few miscellaneous crafting materials along with him. He draped a spare foldable mattress, an item he had now become accustomed to seeing, and draped a sheet atop as Phil ducked inside. The man subconsciously shook the snow from his wings and looked up to Techno, an apology on his lips, as the snow fell onto the hardwood floor. 

“Don’t worry about it. Here, set him down on this.”

Phil did so accordingly and set Tommy down gently onto the makeshift bed. Techno grabbed a down comforter and shook it, careful not to whack Phil in the back of his head, and draped it over the teen as the other pushed stray hairs away from his face. Although Tommy’s breathing had significantly worsened, he was still alive, and that was all they needed. 

Phil already had a cloth in hand by the time that Techno flung himself down the ladder rung and into the storage room. He popped open a few chests. Golden apples could help, but only until Tommy was able to down them without choking or dying to the rush of magic that the fruit gave the consumer. Potions were about the same. And since the rest of the storage was full with building materials and scutes, all that was left was the medical cabinet. 

Techno fondly remembered Phil building and stocking the old thing, insisting to him that it would be necessary one day. Techno didn’t argue. As much as he didn’t want to give up so much space to a cabinet of all things, Techno was grateful for it. It had proven itself useful when Techno had dragged himself home from his own execution — where he had promptly fallen flat onto the floor, much to Tommy’s amusement — and it would continue to prove itself useful today. 

Inside, the cabinet was stocked full of supplies. There was, most noticeably, multiple wads of gauze that filled the top shelf, so much so that when you opened the cabinet it threatened to spill out and onto the floor. Techno took a bundle of wads that seemed loose enough to grab, and moved to the lower shelves. He ended up with a pair of gloves for both him and Phil, as well as scissors, and some spare towels. 

Techno climbed his way back into the living room. Light crossed over him, bubbly and warm, carrying with it what was the only remaining comfort in the cabin. He dumped his materials onto a nearby furnace, plucked a totem from his enderchest, and turned his attention to the teen currently laying on the only counter in their entire house. Tommy’s feet were elevated now, likely to prevent shock, with a heavy cape draped over his torso. Underneath it was a pair of loose gray sweatpants and one of Techno’s old T-shirts. Phil finished blotting the blood off of Tommy’s face and threw the dirty cloth atop the pile of clothes on the floor. He shared a glance and a quick nod as Techno returned to his side. 

“I cleared an airway for him. I doubt it’s going to be easy to breathe, what with all that ash lying around, but it’s a start. Thank you,” Phil said, accepting the gauze and gloves. Techno took his spot as Phil moved to wash his hands. “He’s hanging on for now.” 

Techno leaned over and squinted, trying to find the open airway. “He always does.” 

He heard Phil make a pained noise, recognized shortly after as a chuckle. “He just can’t seem to die, can he?” 

Techno let that sink in for a moment. The kid had been through two wars, two exiles, and two corresponding betrayals. One of which was his own. Techno had previously wondered what it took for Tommy to be broken down into the shell he was when he had shown up at his cabin the night of his execution. Now, he was stuck wondering how he hadn’t even seemed to wilt before then. 

“No, he can’t.” 

Phil returned wearing gloves and unraveling a wad of gauze. Techno switched with him, washing his hands and dawning his own pair, and observed as Phil pointed out the airway to him. The two worked to wrap Tommy’s face and neck in the gauze, Techno only ever stopping to separate the burnt fingers and give them the same treatment. Most of the heavy work was left to Phil, the man’s experience and expertise showing through the delicate way he went about treating the wounds, Techno leaning in and watching carefully as Phil explained what he was doing. The blisters were not to be popped, his breathing and open airway was to be monitored closely, further scarring and bleeding were to be prevented; all things Techno was glad to learn, but hoping he _never_ had to deal with again. By the time they finished, it was well past midnight and snow was beginning to pile outside.

After all of the rags and materials had been cleaned and stored in their rightful places, Techno shoved a few logs into the fireplace and let them burn. The doors rattled as he slid the wooden barricade in and clicked the latches shut, thanked the Blood God that he’d remembered to already check the windows for leaks, and slumped onto the floor next to Phil. The man draped the blanket over them and let his head fall back with a sigh.

Techno let his eyes slip shut. Laying on the floor wasn’t exactly the picture of comfort, especially for a piglin brute and a harpy, but for now the two could relax and fall asleep. Now that they were together again, no house arrest or execution to get in their way, they could tackle this together. Something about that caused Techno to ease. 

He shifted slightly, taking in the soft crackle of the burning wood like white noise, letting Phil wrap a tentative arm around him. Then, enveloped in the warmth and safety and blissfully unaware of the abnormal silence, he drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did y'all catch the Hamilton reference? I hope so LMAOO

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! Critique is always welcomed and appreciated!!! <3


End file.
